when it alteration finds
by Sorde
Summary: Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds. Post-ILYSMBWYN 6x12 . Mark and Lexie talk.


**Title:** when it alteration finds  
**Summary: **_Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds. _Post-ILYSMBWYN (6x13)  
**Couples: **Mark/Lexie!  
**Author's Note: **I originally intended for this to be a fifteen-chapter, in-depth view into Lexie and Mark's relationship... and I still might end up writing that version, but I needed to get something written, if only to comfort myself a little bit. This is, by no stretch of the imagination, a favourite of mine - I'm not big on how I ended up confronting this topic, or on the characterisation, so, if I ever do get around to writing that second one, I'll work on it, I promise. If you'd like to help me out by offering suggestions at points in which they're not in character, that would be unbelievably helpful!  
Inspiration comes from Shakespeare's sixteenth sonnet, and the full line comes from _'Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds.' _I intended this story to sort of conform to this idea, that, even though Lexie and Mark might not be in the same stage of life right now, they do still love each other, and that's not about to change.  
Other than that... enjoy! (and hopefully I'll get around to adding a new M&L story soon)  
**Disclaimer: **If I owned Grey's Anatomy, Mark and Lexie would be happily married. Which does not, unfortunately, make good television drama. Also, the title belongs to William Shakespeare.

**[ when it alteration finds ]**

"Here's the damn box," Mark said gruffly, offering it to her with the sort of nonchalant look she knew to mean that he was pissed, but hiding it well. In the reception of the hospital, both patients and doctors were milling around, and it was the doctors who shot each other quick looks as they passed the pair, slowing down their pace a bit and walking a little too close, intent on hearing. He propped the box up on one arm and fumbled in his pocket for a minute, before extracting his wallet and taking a five, which he promptly chucked into the huge cardboard box, now dangling dangerous from one side to the other. "And here's a five for that lamp of yours."

Shyly, she grabbed the box from his arm (if only to avoid risking his own toes), and hugged it tightly to her chest. "Wh-what happened to the, um," She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, somewhat awkwardly. "Lamp?"

He was already backing up, away from her and away from confrontation. "Chucked it against the wall." He made it a half-turn before she took a quick step forward, still clutching the box, and spoke again.

"Did it, um, break the wall?" Despite himself, he smirked; slightly reverted to his old ways, the thought of someone making stupid conversation to keep him around impressed him.

"I don't know," he offered, shrugging. "I haven't been in the apartment since Friday." Her mouth opened awkwardly for a moment, and she took back her step forward by backing up. After a moment, he relented. "Yeah, it did." And he turned and walked away.

* * *

"I'm sorry," she finally blurted one day, months after their initial breakup, as they washed their hands in preparation for a two-hour surgery. He half-glanced over at her questioningly, one eyebrow raised slightly.

"Grey," he offered warningly, turning his attentions back to the task at hand.

"_Mark_," she emphasised in return, shifting her body to face him directly. "I-I'm sorry I slept with Alex."

"Grey, that was months ago."

"I know. I just... I never apologized." He took a quick look at her again, seemed to think better of it, and yanked his hands out from under the tap sharply.

"Nothing to apologize for. We were done." A quick pause filled the room as he opened his mouth again, breathing in awkwardly for a moment as she, too, hesitated to reply. "We _are_ done." And, absurdly, despite all they'd been through, this felt like the true ending to their relationship.

"It's just-" she removed her hands, too, and took a daring step towards him. "I j-"

"I know." He offered her a shrug.

"But-"

"Yeah." For moment, they stood in the centre of the room, their hands dripping uncomfortably on the floor. The pair were so silent that only the monotonous sound of the drips filled the room, expanding and engulfing them, the representation of the giant elephant in the room with its easy, steady flow, as though taunting them.

"Sorry."

"Back at you." When she looked at him in surprise, he stared steadfastly at the opposing wall, above her head, and mumbled something that sounded distinctly like 'Addison'.

"You were mad," she said stupidly, her mouth open slightly in surprise. He nodded half-heartedly, as though the effort is not quite worth its result.

"Damn straight," he said, his gaze never quite faltering from the opposing wall. "But over time..." He shrugged. "A lot of things die over time." And there was an emphasis in his words that tell her he is no longer referring to anger.

"Some things don't," she offered, bravely. For the first time, he smirked down at her. It disappeared in a second, but he kept his gaze on hers for a minute.

"When we started dating, we were at the same place. We're not anymore." It was her turn to avoid his gaze as she eyed her hands.

"I don't think that's entirely fair."

"I want kids. I want to be a dad, now, and you're - hell, Lexie, you're _twenty-five_. The age was a load of bullshit to me before, but now... it's got some significance. We're not in the same place."

"Maybe I... want kids." His smile, this time, was not mocking or insensitive, but, rather, sympathetic.

"No, you don't. You want to the career and the glamour of being a surgeon. For now."

"Yeah," she breathed. "I shouldn't have broken up with you about wanting to be a dad, though."

"No," he agreed. "But you had a right to break up with me for expecting you to be a mom. And you're not a mom, not yet."

"I'm sorry," she repeated, her eyes glazing over slightly.

"Don't. We're just... not in the same place. Not yet."

_One day_ resonated throughout the room, but Mark didn't want to offer false hope, and Lexie adamantly refused to appear too caught up on him. He thought about his parents, for a minute; they'd never been at the same place. He's been the kid when they'd wanted another friend, and they'd been the high-class, out-every-night adults when all he'd wanted was a parent.

As their conversation came to a close, she leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. It wasn't a promise, it wasn't the kiss of a relationship, and it wasn't the kiss of friends. It was the kiss of a past, of their relationship coming to an honest, final close. Somewhere hidden deep within it, perhaps, suppressed and hidden and unwanted, was the slightest bit of hope. When she pulled away, he eyed her with a small grin.

"You missed," he offered, and she laughed.

"I know." And she leaned in to his chest, throwing her arms gently around his torso. He reciprocated, leaning in to her for a moment as he closed his eyes. After a moment, they pulled away. "Bye, Mark."

"Bye, Little Grey." A shadow of a smile appeared on the corners of her mouth, and she held his hands for a quick moment before walking away.

_Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds. _And it remained, still, untainted.


End file.
